“Darling, meet Rabastan Lestrange.”

Mum is calling me. Drat. She has yet another eligible bachelor for me. Just brilliant, as if I want to get married now; I’ve got other things on my mind… OWLS results, for instance. I wonder if I’ve passed all of them… which classes I’ll be able to take for NEWTS. I want to talk to Severus… find out what classes he’s taking, so that we can coordinate our schedules. But, no; the day the results are sent out, I’m dolled-up in this massive white and gold dress robe that I feel is revealing too much with my brown hair stacked upon my head like some beehive, and being forced to dance with every pureblooded man in sight. Trying not to tread on the hem of my dress I join my mother and Rabastan Lestrange.

“Kathryn, meet Rabastan. Rabastan, this is my pride and joy, my only child, Kathryn Carothru.”

Pride and joy. Funny, yesterday, I was such a pill, and a few other endearing things. Mum is such a two-faced liar. She knows it, too. But of course, I cannot say anything and never will. If I do, I risk being disowned… like Rigel, my older brother. Good riddance, anyways. Consorting with muggleborns and the like… Threatening to sell Daddy’s house so soon after his death… He deserved to be cast out.

My mind is wandering so much that I barely notice that Rabastan has taken my hand.

“Enchanted,” he says, bringing it to his lips. I look at his face.

Dark hair, a manicured beard and mustache tell me that Rabastan is at least five years my senior, the creases and shadows beneath his eyes say it’s more years than that… It doesn’t matter, if he’s rich, Mother’s told me. Rabastan’s lips have remained on my hand a fraction too long, and I think his eyes have traveled to low on me. I gently, but distinctly pull my hand from his grasp. The orchestra plays a ballad. I can see Lucius and his new wife, Narcissa, dancing. I wish my dear uncle would talk to my mother about her domineering ways. But he’s the younger sibling and is preoccupied.

“May I have this dance?” Rabastan asks, bowing.

A glance at Mum says, “Kathryn-Lyra-Carothru-if-you-don’t-dance-with-him-I’ll-make-your-summer-holiday-so-miserable-you’ll-beg-me-to-let-you-marry-this-man-to-get-away-from-my-wrath.” My mother’s eyes are very expressive and terrifying.

“I’d be delighted.”

Rabastan leads me onto the floor. He holds one of my hands with his, and puts his other hand on my waist. I’m not particularly comfortable with this, but my mother looks self-satisfied. I refuse to look Rabastan in the eye, and I glance around, hoping that one of the other, younger suitors will cut in. I see the Blacks; my friend Regulus, and his older brother, Sirius, talking with Claudette McNair, who is, in turn, drooling over Sirius, remaining ignorant of Regulus, who hopes to catch her attention. I see the Crouches discussing politics with the Averys. Nott is trying to catch my widowed mother’s eye.

“What do you think, Kathryn?”

Rabastan is now talking to me. And I wasn’t paying attention, like an attentive woman should.

“What do you think, Mister Lestrange?” I say coyly.

Rabastan cocks an eyebrow.

“I said what I think.”

“Utterly disgusting,” I babble. “I mean really, it’s totally tasteless.”

The raised eyebrow furrows.

“Kathryn, you weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“It’s Miss Carothru,” I say primly. “And, yes, I was.”

“Excuse me,” says a new, young voice. “May I cut in?”

Rabastan turns around, flustered; Sirius Black has tapped him on the shoulder. He takes over while Rabastan slinks off. Sirius places one hand on my waist, the other grasps my hand.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “But, why did you do that?”

“You looked like you were drowning,” Sirius says, cockily. “I came to save you.”

“I did not,” I say stiffly, heatedly. “And you needn’t have saved me. I was holding my own, thank you.”

Sirius snorts, disbelieving.

“Not from what I could see.”

“Really?” I ask, sneering. “Perhaps you should get your vision examined.”

With that, I break from his clutches and storm off. My mother is smiling.

“He’s really handsome, Kathryn. And Walburga mentioned his need for a woman.”

“Excuse me?”

“Young Sirius Black. Isn’t he charming? And his family is very rich… You’ll be well cared for.”

Groaning, I pray Mum isn’t serious about Sirius. But she is. And I’ve not enough backbone to stand up to her. The name Kathryn Black rolls through my mind, sounding like the Hogwarts Express as it pulls away from the station, leaving all familiar and comfortable behind. I look back out for Sirius. He’s now arguing with his mum, Walburga. I’ve managed to convince Rigel to get disowned. Maybe I can help nudge Black over the edge as well…

***
“Mistress Kathryn,” a squeaky house-elf voice says, hovering near my navel. “Your mother would like a word with you.”

I stop scanning my booklist for school and run to the parlor, where my mother is usually at this time of day. I knock on the door gently and push it open. My mother, Medea Malfoy-Carothru is sitting in her beloved arm-chair, straight backed and perfect. Her blonde, curly hair and pale skin making her petite frame all the more lovely. On occasion, I have seen her vainly admiring herself in a hall mirror. When she notices me, dark haired, medium skinned, and tall, a slight scowl plays on her rose-petal lips. She thinks I can’t see, but I can. She is giving me that disdainful look now, but notices I am watching. It immediately melts to a placid, false smile.

“Kathryn, my love! I have excellent news for you!” she crows happily. “Walburga and Orion have just owled me; you are betrothed to young Sirius Black!”

She claps her small hands together and color rises in her cheeks. I remain silent. She unfortunately seems to care.

“Kathryn, are you not going to say anything?”

I continue to stare blankly, blinking only to repress tears.

“Too excited, hmm? Couldn’t you just die?”

Don’t worry, Mother. I could.

***

“Are you Kathryn Carothru?”

I jump, as a voice from behind me speaks. I’ve been patrolling the Hogwarts express, carrying out my Prefect duties. Turning around, I see the speaker; a sandy-haired boy with gentle brown eyes. I my eyes trail down his patched Gryffindor robes and a slight scowl forms on my mouth. I recognize him as another Prefect, the same year as me, sixth.

“Yes. Who’s asking?”

“Forgive me; I’m Remus Lupin, Sirius’ friend.”

“Oh.”

I try not to sound rude, but I wish he would leave me alone already.

“I just wanted to congratulate you about your engagement. Sirius hasn’t stopped talking about it.”

“Really?” I say, mildly amused. In my mind’s eye, I can see Sirius bragging to his friends about the pretty girl he’s going to marry. But then, another image comes to mind: Sirius complaining that he’s somehow being forced to marry an awful wench from Slytherin. I shudder and shake it off.

“Yeah, I just thought I ought to introduce myself, since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other,” Remus says. “See you around.”

“Maybe,” I say shrugging, relieved that he’s leaving. Great. Now I am being congratulated for a wedding I don’t want to happen.


***

“Don’t talk to me, Kathryn.”

Well, that is some greeting on my first day back to school after the summer holidays. My friend, Severus Snape, is shooting me death glares and he puts his large stack of books in the spot next to him at the table. I cock my head, confused.

“Come on, Severus. Lighten up. I’m sorry I didn’t sit with you on the train; you know full well I was doing my Prefect patrol…”

Severus sneered at me, a truly menacing scowl; one he usually reserves for James Bloody Potter. His black eyes roll into the back of his head and he makes a “tch” noise.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You lied to me; I had to find out the truth from Regulus!”

“What did he tell you?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips. “If this about McGonagall’s class…”

“You know bloody well it isn’t,” Severus snarls. “It’s about Black.”

I freeze. Though sorely tempted to ask him if he meant Regulus Black, our mutual friend, I resist the urge. My blue eyes are wide with fear, and every dark brown hair on the back of my neck is standing on end. My heart, beating wildly, sinks to the floor and pulsates harder. He means Sirius Black, a Gryffindor boy who takes pleasure in teasing Severus, torturing him. Sirius Black, the pureblooded youth to whom I am engaged.

“I did not lie so much as I did not tell you,” I say primly. “Severus, please, this isn’t what I want. Sirius and I… We hate each other! You can’t honestly believe that I want to marry that….”

“Then why didn’t you say that to your mum?” Severus asks, continuing to scowl. “You honestly have no backbone.”

“No backbone!” I scoff, mock laughter escaping my lips. “How can you say I have no backbone? Every morning for the past year and a half, I have shown up to school with a semblance of a smile on my face, despite my father’s death. I have stood up for you, even though half the time you don’t deserve it!”

Tears are leaking out of my eyes. Emotions I have pent up for ages are cascading from my lips faster than I can process them.

“I’m the one who dueled Claudette McNair when she was about to hex you! I’ve lied to McGonagall’s face to keep Regulus out of detention! I…” My shoulders sag as I notice that Severus is no longer paying attention to me, but to his roast chicken. Groaning, I slink off and join a girl, Alecto Carrow, at the other end of the table. Alecto is something like my fourth cousin, twice removed on my father’s side. Our last names are similar, but I rarely claim relation to her. She’s eager to please, and annoying. A dumpy girl, under five-foot tall, she’s not someone I would call a friend. But right now, sitting beside her is better than sitting next to Severus.

“Hi, Alecto,” I say, my voice sugar-coated. “May I sit here?”

She sighs laboriously, as though it’s an effort to allow me to sit with her. But, slowly she nods. I eagerly take my seat. We eat in silence for a while.

“I heard about your engagement,” she says quietly.

“Really?” I ask, weary of hearing about my betrothal.

“Yes, I did. And I must say, Claudette McNair is not pleased.” Alecto’s voice sounds gleeful. “She said that if she sees you, she’ll rip your guts out and hex you into oblivion.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I mumble. Alecto laughs, making a wheezy sound as she does. I wrinkle my nose, remembering why I usually don’t associate myself with her. I mumble something about needing to speak with Professor Slughorn and slink off.

***

“You’re dead, Carothru,” a menacing voice hisses. I stop in my tracks and turn around. Behind me, Claudette McNair, my loathed rival, is standing, her legs spread apart into a combative stance. Her blonde hair hangs in her face and her pale green eyes are blazing.

“Really?” I ask. “That’s funny. If I’m dead, then what are you doing in heaven?”

Claudette scowls and she hurls a Sponge-Knees curse at me. I side-step it missing a jet of yellow light that nearly hit me. I hurtle back Impedimenta at Claudette, who falls to the ground. Back at me, she throws a nonverbal spell that looks particularly nasty. It ricochets off a suit of armor and hits her square in the chest. Claudette is once more knocked backwards, this time, unconscious. Hideous tentacles begin to sprout all over her face. I bend over her frame, examining her.

“What are you doing down here?”

The voice of Argus Filch, the caretaker, hits my ears and I freeze. My shoulders tense and I feel his lamp-like eyes upon me.

“Kathryn? What are you doing?” a deeper voice booms. It’s my head of house, Professor Slughorn.

Claudette is carted off to the hospital wing, and Slughorn heaves me to my feet. I follow him numbly to the dungeons, to his office.

“Kathryn, you know that fighting is not tolerated!” he squawks as he nestles himself into his desk chair. “What were you thinking?”

“I…”

“You weren’t thinking. Look, we can’t afford to have a Prefect who’s been caught dueling in the hallways. I’m going to have to appoint a different girl. I’m sorry.”

“But I didn’t start it!” shout, throwing my arms in the air.

“But you didn’t stop it, either, Kathryn. I’m sorry, but that’s my final word. I’ll see you in class this afternoon. Good day.”

I cannot get another word in as Slughorn dismisses me.

***
I have survived until Christmas holiday, avoiding Severus, avoiding Claudette, and keeping my head down. I gladly take the train home for the holidays and meet my mother at the train station. Her eyes are red, as though she has been crying.

“Kathryn, I have horrible news!” she exclaims as we enter our home. She thrusts off her traveling cloak, and dramatically throws herself into the nearest seat. “Sirius Black has run away from home!”

“What?” I ask, my voice soft.

“He said that he has ‘had enough of our pure-blood mania’ and he’s utterly refused to go on with the betrothal. He’s… oh it’s horrible… he’s been disowned! We’ve been disgraced… discredited….”

Her list continues but I have fallen deaf to her words. I have lost my friends, my Prefect-ship, and my year over a futile engagement. My heart feels as though it stopped beating. I rush upstairs to my room to cry, not over Sirius, but for my losses.

***
I’ve been lying on my stomach for hours, wondering what to do. I don’t have to marry Black. But, chances are, Mother will find someone twice as bad. I have to do something. A plot begins to take seed in my head when I hear a faint tapping on my window frame. I drag myself out of bed and I see, on my balcony, Sirius Black. I pull on a dressing gown and slippers and tiptoe outside.

“What are you doing here?” I snap angrily. “You’re a bloodtraitor and a…”

Sirius looks hurt. His handsome features are twisted with pain and his grey eyes look remorseful.

“I came to apologize, for not consulting you first, about the engagement. But Walburga was making plans for next year, and naming our children, and… well, we hardly know each other! I stormed out, and called off the wedding. I didn’t mean to hurt you, if I did.”

“Hurt me?” I sputter. “I’ve lost everything! My friends didn’t want to speak with me when they learned that I was betrothed to you. Jealous girls attacked me in the hallway and stripped me of my Prefect position. And now, I’ve lost my future husband. You didn’t hurt me, Sirius, you destroyed me.”

He brushes a snowflake from my dark cheek and sighs. His hand is warm against my icy cheek, and, for a moment, I wish his hand would linger there. But it does not.

“I know, and I’m sorry. If it helps, you don’t have to lose me… If you’d be willing to date a bloodtraitor.”

His grin is cocky, but he looks so handsome, his dark features against the snow-scape. I want to accept him. I've lost all else, what more is there to lose? And yet… And yet… I feel the need to refuse him. I can do better. I deserve better.

“I cannot date you; you cause nothing but misery. If I date you, I will give up my dowry, my inheritance, my status. Everything. And I cannot do that.” My voice sounds harsh in my ears, and the words spill out before I can stop them. Sirius' eyes, hopeful when he asked, are now shut in pain.

"I understand," he says softly, climbing over the frozen balcony walls. I hear a motorbike engine start and I see one fly off into the night sky.

And with the sight of Sirius' hurt eyes, forever etched into my mind, I return inside to my bedroom, wondering if I have given up my only chance for happiness.